A NotSoHappy Birthday
by Rhys
Summary: It’s Wolverine’s birthday. Unfortunately, he won’t be opening presents today. Instead, he gets a note from an old friend asking for help…and a card from an even older one, wishing him very few happy returns indeed…Rating for violence...Completed
1. Part One: Happy Birthday To You...

A Not-So-Happy Birthday ****

A Not-So-Happy Birthday

DISCLAIMER: Everybody belongs to Marvel. Nobody belongs to me. Not Logan, Jubilee, Elektra, Kitty (wah), Gen-X, or (thank god) Creed. If they did, I'd be really, really happy and I wouldn't have to write my stories up on the Internet. I could tell people to write them and I could do the pictures and supervise the plot. That'd be fine. But, like I said, they don't belong to me (pity! feel pity!). I don't even get to work for Marvel. Yet! I'm hopeful! (Hey, I have some time, y'know?) Anyway, I've made this way to long, so; on with the story. Oh, yeah. Many thanks to Jewel for her awesome theme on the canuckle-head. Oh, yeah. It had Jubilee, but all you Jubilee haters out there (I know the poor girl has a lot of them), she isn't the focus of the story, and it isn't just a love-thing with Wolvie, either. So, just read it, okay? Okay.

****

SUMMARY: It's Wolverine's birthday. Unfortunately, he won't be opening presents today. Instead, he gets a note from an old friend asking for help…and a card from an even older one, wishing him very few happy returns indeed… (Rated in case of violence later—hey, when it has Elektra, Wolverine, and a certain other clawed guy, things can get a bit messy, y'dig?)

****

Part One

Happy Birthday to You…

Logan stood in the kitchen of the X-Mansion, puffing on his cigar (which he wasn't allowed to smoke in the house, but who was going to tell him that?) and sorting the mail. He was usually the first one up and about in the house, so he usually did the duty. Besides, it was amusing. 

He sniffed at a pile of envelopes in his hand and started dealing them out like a pack of cards into different piles on the counter. That one was junk; that one was from Emma Frost, probably be for Xavier, something about the Gen-X kids; that one was from the government…he hesitated. He wanted to throw it out, but Chuck had gotten really upset last time, after Dr. Cooper had called to ask him why she hadn't gotten a reply. Oh, well, it was _that_ one. He could throw it out, and be damn the consequences. Chuck really didn't need to deal with any of _that _right now. He sniffed again. Okay, that on was for LeBeau, that one from Braddock; either for Betsy, the 'Crawler, or Kitty. He tossed that one aside for now. Who wanted to read the damned label, anyway? That's what his nose was for. Let's see, now…junk, junk, junk, Cyke or Jeanie, junk, Elektra—oh, for him. Great. He stuffed it into his coat pocket; he'd read that later. Now what…junk, bill, junk, junk…

Logan stopped cold. He sniffed the envelope again. No. No, it couldn't be. 

Could and was. _Creed_. The name alone was enough to point the hair on the back of his neck up and form the beginnings of a growl in the back of Logan's throat. With a _snikt_, he slit the envelope open and pulled out its contents. A birthday card. Well damn him then.

It had become a sort of tradition that Creed tried to kill Logan every day on his birthday. Okay, so the bastard's head wasn't right. He'd known that for years, from even before he could remember. A low growl escaped his throat. He'd thought Creed had stopped that; hadn't happened for that last…what, two years? Either Sabretooth had gotten bored with that and moved onto other things, realized he was being childish, or, more likely, his twisted head had just forgotten the date. How wonderful; it just gave Logan this warm, fuzzy feeling to know that people remembered his "birthday" if that's what the date even really was. Yeah. _Right_. Warm and fuzzy like the feeling of hot blood and Creed-fur mixed on his claws. 

He almost ripped it to small paper shreds with his claws, but something stopped him. He sniffed…sniffed…no. No, it couldn't be. He yanked open the card so fast that a corner of it ripped. It was. Some birthday greeting. "**Gotcher gal, boy**," was scrawled across it in messy handwriting—messy, painfully _familiar_ handwriting. There was other handwriting below it. A crossed-out "don't wory abot me wolv" and under that, a very small "help" written sharply in the same handwriting, clearly through force more than want. There was a name to go with this handwriting. It matched the scent he'd caught mixed in with the sharper odor of cat. 

Jubilee.

* * *

Kitty Pryde threw open the door to the kitchen, the other X-Men (even Cyclops) crowded behind her. "SURPRISE!" they all shouted. "HAPPY BIRThday…" the shout trailed off. Again. There was nobody here. And he wasn't in his room, either. Or the Danger Room. Or the lounge. 

"You know," Kitty announced, "this is getting annoying. I coulda sworn he would be here…"

"Dat's what you said 'bout his room, too, petite," Gambit laughed from the crowd. "And after dat de Danger Room and de—" Everybody laughed. But that still didn't answer the question. Logan was gone, and nobody could figure out where. Nor did it answer the question about why there were three deep holes in the counter in the kitchen; marks from Logan's claws. 

"Well," Rogue thought out loud, "maybe he got some mail he didn't like. Ah mean, is his bike here?" 

"Indubitably sensible, my dear," Beast agreed.

"I'll check," Jean paused a moment. "He isn't anywhere nearby…and no, his motorcycle isn't, either. Oh, and, Scott?"

"What?" Cyclops asked.

"You need more gas."

"Huh," he asked, not comprehending, "why? I just filled it up."

"Yeah, I know. But so did Logan."

"What do you mean?"

"Duh, sugah. His bike needed gas."

"Guess he'll be gone for a while… Man," Kitty griped, "and we spent so long on his cake, too!"

"Yeah. Tryin' ta fit on that many candles was enough ta give a gal a migraine."

* * *

The creatures of the forest fled at the sound. It was one they'd heard before; the results were never pretty and usually accompanied a new small, fury body for the scavengers to feast upon. A motorcycle was out in the woods. This bike was a little bit different from most, though. It went a heck of a lot faster. Its rider wasn't wearing a helmet, either, but unlike usual, he wasn't being stupid. The helmet would break a heck of a lot sooner than the rider's skull ever would.

Logan tore through the woods like he was in a berserker rage. He wasn't. Yet.

Sabretooth had captured a very close friend of his, and a kid to boot. That was enough to put him on the edge anytime. The fact that he hadn't talked to Jubes for a while didn't help. He had no clue what the kid was up to, and no clue how she could have gotten herself into such deep cat-shit. He might be able to have fun carving the answer to that out of Creed's hide. For now, though, Logan was ticked. And anybody with sense should know enough to stay out of his way. 

The exception, as always, would be Victor Creed. Funny; Logan was looking forward to that this time. And he was more than looking forward to tearing the organ that pretended to be the psychopath's heart out of his chest and ripping it to small, tiny little shreds. Again. And again. And again. And again…

Wolverine had to admit that there could be up sides to an enemy having a healing factor.

* * *

Professor Xavier was in his study, where he'd been for the bast fifteen hours. Most of that time had been spent on the phone, conversing (if he wasn't such a polite old gentleman he might have said arguing) with Dr. Valerie Cooper, head of the American government's department of mutant affairs.

_Kitty,_ he thought to the young mutant in the mansion's kitchen, _if you're on your way upstairs, would you mind bringing me the mail?_

_Sure professor, no problem!_ she though brightly and turned to find which pile Logan had made for Professor Xavier. _Ah, here we go_. She scooped the pile up and started walking up…well, not "stairs"; she was walking on air, but the general direction was the same. She idly flipped through the envelopes, checking to make sure that Logan hadn't just tossed the wrong letter in the pile because of its smell. _That_ had caused a minor fiasco last month, when Scott had accidentally opened one of Bobby's "love letters". Kitty rolled her eyes. Sometimes people could be real jerks. _Especially_ ol' one-eye.

_Hmm_, she thought, _what's this?_ A letter from Generation-X. It was just addressed "X-Men," with a sticker label. Curious, she turned it over to see if that would give her a clue as to who it was from, or what it was about. The letter fell out of the unsealed envelope. _Silly kids, they're lucky it even got…here…oh my._

In big, black letters someone had written "URGENT" on the letter's heading. Kitty meant to just put it back in the envelope and tell the Professor that something big was up with the Massachusetts Academy, but a line of the letter caught her eye:

"…broke into Jubilee's room. It looked like the wall had been clawed away and half-chewed up…"

Kitty stopped, midway between the lounge and the hallway, legs on one side of the floor, head and shoulders on the other, quickly skimming the letter.

"Jubilee is missing… someone broke into her room… looked like the wall had been clawed away… we can't find her anywhere… telepathic contacts have had no luck… hoping you could help… may not want to let Logan know about this… I know how brash he can be… doing our best to find her… have taken the students with me to search… Angelo has taken it rather hard… contact me telepathically, not by phone… had no luck so far… afraid it might have something to do with that psychopath, Victor Creed… any news would be welcome… hoping you might use Cerebro to aid us…"

"Jubilee is missing.

"Can't find her anywhere.

"Hoping you could help."

When the Professor scanned the mansion about fifteen or twenty minutes later, he could find no sign or Kitty Pryde anywhere. And he still didn't know what the mail said. Oh, well, maybe there hadn't been anything he had to deal with today. Oh, Logan had sorted the mail, hadn't he? With a sigh, the Professor floated out of the study and down the hall towards the kitchen—and the trash can. He was mildly surprised when he saw the bunch of letters lying in the middle of the hallway. With a suppressed sigh, he leaned over and managed to snare most of them in one grab. He settled those next to him and leaned over the chair's arm again for the rest of today's crises…

* * *

Elektra threw a knife. She frowned and threw another one. Much better. She reached down—and sighed. She walked over to the hastily erected target (now resembling a pincushion more than a bull's eye) and pulled out a handful of the long, thin blades. She grabbed the rest in her other hand and walked back to a good distance. She set the knives down and started throwing again. 

_Thump_.

_Thump_.

_Thump_.

_Thump_.

_Snikt—clink—whump_.

The knife fell to the ground, its path stopped by the claws that had sprung out from beside a tree. The man to whom those claws belonged stepped out a second later. 

"Logan."

"Elektra. Long time no see." The short, tough man in the leather jacket looked over his shoulder at the target. "Not bad, darlin'."

"Thanks."

"Got your letter."

"And here I thought this was a social visit."

Logan snorted, "sure ya did." He peered closely at her. "You seem different."

She managed not to bite his head off only through severe willpower. "I'm a little stressed."

He nodded. She could see the rage he was carefully controlling very clearly; she'd been in similar situation before, her instincts and her morals fighting a war with nuclear weapons inside her, unable to show the slightest indications of the massive indecision that wrestled inside her for fear of being thought fearful. Exhibiting weaknesses like that got you killed. 

"Yeah. Know whatcha mean. The letter was a little cryptic, though. Want to explain some more?"

"Not really."

"But you will." It wasn't a question.

"I can see you were intrigued."

"That's putting it mildly," he growled at her, some of the anger seeping through. She was right; he really was worried about the kid. "So?"

"Yeah," she sighed, "I'm gonna."

She plucked the knives from the bull's eye and packed her small duffel up again, pulling out a thermos of water. They sat on the ground as she began to talk…

End of Part One

To Be Continued…?


	2. Part Two: Where's the Birthday Boy?

A Not-So-Happy Birthday ****

A Not-So-Happy Birthday

DISCLAIMER: Everybody belongs to Marvel. Nobody belongs to me. Not Logan, Jubilee, Elektra, Kitty (wah), Gen-X, or (thank god) Creed. If they did, I'd be really, really happy and I wouldn't have to write my stories up on the Internet. I could tell people to write them and I could do the pictures and supervise the plot. That'd be fine. But, like I said, they don't belong to me (pity! feel pity!). I don't even get to work for Marvel. Yet! I'm hopeful! (Hey, I have some time, y'know?) Anyway, I've made this way to long, so; on with the story. Oh, yeah. Many thanks to Jewel for her awesome theme on the canuckle-head. Oh, yeah. It had Jubilee, but all you Jubilee haters out there (I know the poor girl has a lot of them), she isn't the focus of the story, and it isn't just a love-thing with Wolvie, either. So, just read it, okay? Okay.

****

SUMMARY: It's Wolverine's birthday. Unfortunately, he won't be opening presents today. Instead, he gets a note from an old friend asking for help…and a card from an even older one, wishing him very few happy returns indeed… (Rating might change in case of violence later—hey, when it has Elektra, Wolverine, and a certain other clawed guy, things can get a bit messy, y'dig?)

Part Two

Where's the Birthday Boy?

Cyclops stopped and turned around. Storm stopped too.

"What is it?" she asked in her deep, majestic goddess-voice.

Scott looked at the empty asphalt next to him for a moment, then up at the white haired woman in front of him. Sounding like a kid who just lost their favorite toy, he asked her, as if she was supposed to know, "where's my motorcycle?"

* * *

Kitty wished she could risk taking a hand off the handlebars to scratch her head. It itched under the helmet that was crushing her hair down around her skull like a ski-cap. But she had the bike on its turbo-speed right now, and she really didn't want to wreck. It wouldn't (shouldn't) hurt her, but right now, Scott's bike was the only transportation she had. And she _really_ didn't want to walk. 

She should have stayed at the X-Mansion a little longer. She should have told someone where she was going. She should have waited until she knew what was going on. She should have talked to Xavier. Okay, to be perfectly fair, she _should_ have also asked Scott if she could borrow his motorcycle, but why bother? All it would take was a pouty lip. And if that didn't work—well, Jean was her friend, and when _she_ gave Scott the "look" he didn't dare refuse. Wimp.

She'd acted impulsively, and would probably suffer for it later. But she had to do _some_thing. Jubilee had probably been kidnapped by _Sabretooth_ for crying out loud! Kitty, who knew what it was like to be the young kid in a house of people who fought for their daily lives, felt a sort of kinship for the girl. She remembered what it was like to have to act like an adult on a battlefield, always prepared to possibly loose a friend, and still be expected to act like a normal kid when she got home. She knew what it was like to be told that she was too young to do something when she knew she wasn't, that they were treating her like a baby, and that they'd still expect her to act like a hero in a fight. 

And she knew what it was like to be in very, very bad situations. 

She'd been scared to death before. Being at the mercy of Victor Creed—heck, being in the same room as the animal, even if he was restrained, could freak you out. Imagine if _you_ were the one that was restrained! 

Kitty suppressed a shudder and focused on the road again. She couldn't help Jubilee if she splattered herself across some trucks bumper and had to deal with people asking how she emerged unscathed, how she'd gone that fast, et cetera. And Jubilee needed help, she knew.

The poor girl's nightmares wouldn't ever even be the same.

* * *

Jubilee's head snapped up when she heard the heavy footsteps approaching. _Funny_, she thought bitterly to herself, _how he moves so quietly when he really wants to and sounds like a friggin' freight train the rest of the time_. She hung her head again, trying to make her heart calm down. She breathed deep and evenly, hoping the monster would think she was asleep and go pick on somebody else.

No such luck.

"Y're awake, kid, so stop 'tending," he growled at her. He leaned in close, his hairy face next to hers. "My senses are better than the kid's, so just remember: there ain't no fooling old Sabretooth."

"God, don't you ever brush your teeth? I mean, like, with a dumb healing factor, you should be able to talk to people without, like, suffocating them, y'dig?"

He laughed at her, a sound that chilled her to the very marrow of her bones in its insanity. "Ya got spunk, kid. I like that in a dame."

Jubilee could hardly swallow around the sudden lump in her throat. "…" She tried again, "I'm not scared of you!" She was proud of herself; her voice had hardly squeaked. 

"Oh, yeah?" he leaned in so close she could feel the hair on his face brush her cheeks. "'S'at so?" She trembled, clenching her eyes tightly closed. She tried again, even though it was futile, but the fireworks just flashed around the metal mits that covered her hands. They heated up, but she knew they wouldn't melt. Not before her hands did. They were already blistered and in pain from previous attempts. 

He leaned back his head and laughed again, a soul-freezing sound of darkness, rage, pain, and…insanity. Jubilee hoped that somebody would come get her out of here soon.

She was absolutely terrified of this depraved psycho ranting in front of her. 

* * *

Professor Xavier was mad. Not incensed, no; that had happened only twice before, and both times it had been very bad. Once, his good friend had lost his mind. The second time, he had. No, now he was merely mad.

"Scoot." Cyclops knew that tone of voice; knew what was coming. "I'm sorry, Professor, really! I didn't realize that, with my bike gone, someone had to have taken it! And Storm just gave me a strange look and kept going. It should be her fault, too," he complained sulkily.

The professor gave him the "I'm very disappointed with you look" and Scott crumpled. 

"Honestly, Professor! I mean, it's not like I knew she was gone! And we still don't know hy, or how, or what, just that Logan left too! And you know she'd follow him if he was in trouble, so I don't see why it's _my_ fault…" his voice trailed off. "Should I take the Blackbird and find her, sir?"

Xavier sighed. "No, Scott. I don't need to have you lost, too. And with Cerebro broken* there really isn't all that much I can do, except ask every one if they have any idea. Are you certain that this is all the mail she received yesterday?"

"Yes, sir…uh, I mean, no. Logan was the one that sorted it, and he took off, too!" _Damn him_, Scott thought.

"Cyclops…"

"Sorry, sir." He reminded himself not to think so loud around the Professor…and immediately wondered if he'd heard that, too…and then that, as well. And then… "Oh, uh, would you like me to check and see if there's anything in her room?"

"No, thank you, Scott. I have already asked Rogue to search that for me. You may go. I believe you have a Danger Room session scheduled soon with Warren and Bobby?"

"Yes, sir."

"And Scott?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Try to remember to take your keys out of the ignition nest time."

"Sorry, sir. I'll try."

"Thank you, Scott. You may leave."

* * *

Elektra woke up when she heard a grating, high-pitched _siiinkkkt_, _siiinkkkt_ sound. It was Logan, sharpening his claws. Hadn't she ever told him how annoying that was? Yes, she had. Plenty of times. Over and over and over again. This time she would make sure he heard her. Granted, he'd heard her before. He just hadn't listened. Maybe pain would help? Based on the sound, she judged about how far away he was. Then, in one fluid motion, she flipped off the ground, a few feet forward, kicked him in the back of the head, flipped over him, and landed on the other side, arms crossed in front of her, giving him the evil eye.

"Mornin' ta you, too, darlin."

"In case I never told you, that sound really peeves me off, Logan. And I don't want to have to wake up to that anymore, alright? Bad enough I'm gonna be stuck with you for a while. We really don't need to hash out which one of us can fight better, do we?"

"Nah, I hate it when I make my pals die."

"Oh _really_? News flash you gene-twisted chauvinist: just cause you can heal fast doesn't mean you can beat a ninja-master at her own game. My blades may not be attached but I have a whole bunch more of them than you do. So bug off. I need to change."

He laughed, their normal I-hate-you-you-hate-me banter ringing through the small clearing, and stood up. He stretched with an adamantium-popping crack, then strolled off through the woods. "Anything for you, Elektra."

"Yeah, right, Logan. And no peeking. My outfit'll show more than enough as it is. Scat."

With good-natured grumbles, he disappeared into the trees. Knowing as well as he knew that she'd know that he was still there, she smiled politely and thumbed her nose in his general direction. She waited a few moments until he really had left, then tuned to the duffel bag and pulled out a bright red outfit. And the weapons that went with it. From the distance, she could hear Logan mutilating some poor, unfortunate tree. It wouldn't be long before both of them had the chance to mutilate something that would bleed a lot more. And fight back much, much harder than the bark he was ripping to shreds with his claws. 

Elektra wished she had some adamantium sai or something. A sword, maybe, of that indestructible metal. She smiled to herself as she pulled her boots on and tucked the sai inside them. Wouldn't that be a fun weapon to use? Too bad there was no way to get Wolverine to part with those claws of his…

"Don't even think about it, lady."

Elektra laughed at the voice that had emerged from the tree line. "Too late, Logan. Far, far too late for that." She heard a snort and a rasp of a lighter. "You can come back now. I'm decent."

"You are not. You're a cold-blooded killer like me."

Elektra laughed again. This time, Wolverine joined her.

End of Part Two

To Be Continued…maybe?

By the Way…* This happened in a climatic battle that the X-Men were in recently, and Jean and the Prof just haven't been able to fix it all up yet. It'll be okay. Eventually. Trust me! With geniuses like Hank and Kitty and mighty minds like Charles and Phoenix, how could it not be? For now, though, it isn't around…cause I needed to get it out of the picture.

Oh, yeah. I know I never finish any of my stories. You people tell me which ones you want finished, I'll bleeding finish those ones. You don't, I'll get bored and figure it doesn't matter, and me twisted little mind will move on to something else equally insane. Ta ta!


	3. Part Three: A Dark and Stormy Night...

Part Three

Part Three

A Dark and Story Night…

It was a dark and stormy night. _[Okay, cliché, so what? I've always wanted to write that. And it was!] _Kitty Pryde didn't like being wet and cold at the same time. She could phase, sure, but she _hated_ phasing through cold water. It just felt…creepy. She looked around herself and swallowed. Okay, so this place wasn't much better. The neighborhood was one that she would never have entered if, A: she couldn't phase, and, B: Wolverine hadn't taught her how to fight when she was a little kid. 

And the house (could she really call it that?) was _not _a place that she would have ever wanted to enter of her own free will. But she was involved in the "black" world if she wanted to help Jubilee, and she did. So this was her only option. Because her friends didn't come any "blacker" than this…

Not that they were her friends. One of them was. Once. But she hurt him, badly. And the others all hate her. But…they can't be willing to let Sabretooth hang onto Jubilee, can they? Can't be willing to resigning anyone to _his_ tender mercies. Well, except for her. They'd pay all their money to give her a one-way ticket to hell without a second thought. Still, they had to help out a young girl like Jubilee who was caught by that monster. Meltdown, though…no, Meltdown would do anything to hurt that animal. She hated Victor Creed even more than she hated Shadowcat. 

Shadowcat, who stood on her doorstep, right now, trying to convince herself that she'd already made up her mind, that she knew what to say. That she was strong enough to face…him. That she could do it. For Jubilee. She had to. If she was going to find Sabretooth, did she really have a choice? No, no she didn't…but that was a cold comfort as you walked into the lion's den.

She rang the doorbell. 

* * * 

Elektra stared at Logan. "You have _got_ to be kidding."

"Why not, darlin'? Fastest way t' get where we gotta be goin' for both our sakes."

"I am _not_ going to sit on the back of that thing." She gave the offending motorcycle a glare that had frozen enemies' hearts many times in the past. The bike sat there, innocently, as if it hadn't seen the look of death.

"It ain't gonna bite you, Elektra."

"You think I'm scared of it?" She transferred her glare from the bike to its owner.

"Yep. I think you're scared shitless, darlin."

Elektra's jaw dropped. She stared down at Wolverine, at a loss for words. Finally, she settled for a rude gesture and a snarl. "You're just scared I'll make you leave it here."

"Nope. Cause we ain't gonna do that. You're just afraid to get on the bike," he took a drag of his cigar and blew the smoke into the air.

With a frown that would make a normal man check to see if his heart was still in his chest and not in his hand, dripping blood, she straddled the bike. 

"Knew you could do it, darlin'. Now slide back, I gotta get one too."

"I don't think so."

"You think I'm letting you drive my bike?" Now it was Logan's turn to stare openmouthed with surprise.

Elektra gave him her sweetest smile. "Yep. Cause we ain't gonna do it another way."

Logan stared at her with a death-glare to rival Cyke's. The former ninja-master of the Hand and the former mutant operative of the Canadian CIA stared daggers at one another—or, rather, stared sais and adamantium claws at one another.

* * *

Shadowcat rolled her eyes and walked away. Great. Just great. They weren't home. Off doing something or other to get themselves and who knows who else killed, she was sure. Well, if she couldn't get X-Force to tell her, she'd have to find out on her own. Kitty turned to walk away, and only the fact that she phased instinctively saved her from being bowled over on the street. Her assailant went sailing through her down the steps to land on the street below. 

The girl rolled to her feet and her hands started to glow.

"What do you want here, Pryde?" Tabitha Smith shouted angrily at Kitty.

"I'm trying to find Creed!" Kitty replied, still intangible, eyeing the glowing bio-plasma with discomfort. It couldn't hurt her when she was phased, but if Tabitha let go, the collateral damage might hurt innocents in the area.

"You little—!" Meltdown almost threw the "time bomb" at her, the reply angered her so much. "What gives you the right to come here and make an accusation like that, you little cow!"

"I have to find him, and I thought X-Force could help me out—"

"I hate him and I hate you! Get off my stoop, Pryde, before I blow it out from under you! After what you did to Mr. W, after he died, cause of you, and you didn't even come—"

"How dare you!" Kitty slapped Tabitha, hard, across the face. "Don't you dare, _dare_ say that to me! You're the ones that were there, that just watched when he—when he died, don't you _dare_ say it was me! I wasn't even on _Earth_ when that happened, when he—when Pete—don't you _dare_!"

Tabitha leaped at Kitty, and fell through her to land hard on the concrete stairs behind her, painfully. Kitty glowered just as angrily as the girl sitting below her intangible feet. Tabitha spit out gravel, but before she could say anything, Kitty continued:

"Now Sabretooth—who _you_ let out—has kidnapped Jubilee, and I don't know where he has her, and Cerebro is broken! So you can either use those contacts of yours to find them, or her death—and maybe Wolverine's—will be on _your_ hands!"

Tabitha stared daggers at the woman floating in front of her. She practically spit the words out: "Fine. Come with me."

* * *

Sabretooth slammed the phone down in the rocker so hard that it cracked. _Stupid old ninja master…thinks he can tell _Sabretooth_ what to do? Nnnnnahh, I don't think so_. Victor smiled evilly to himself. Time for some more fun—oh, wait, he couldn't kill the girl, not yet. She was here so that he could kill the kid. And that lady, Elektra, the guy wanted dead. Well, he'd have to wait. First Vic was gonna settle some scores of his own—it was the kid's birthday, so timing was great—then he'd deal with that ninja dame.

Well, he could at least see what her blood tasted like. A feral smile curled around the psycho's toothy grin as he stalked loudly towards the small room where he was keeping Jubilee. A low growl escaped him, as he smelled the fear-scent the kid put off. She tried to be brave, but there's no fooling Sabretooth. He laughed to himself as he pulled the heavy steel door open and the scent hit him fully. He loved that scent, the smell of human fear pheromones. Too bad nobody could make a cologne of that. He'd buy it, for sure. But really, he could smell it any time he wanted too.

For some reason that he was thankful to a god that he'd never believe in, he often had that reaction on people. Victor Creed smiled and found that the kid wasn't unique in that respect.

* * *

"So, how come everybody else isn't here again?" Kitty asked, trying to make some semblance of conversation.

"They're at the hospital," Tabitha spat back and started punching more numbers on the phone in her hand. "Now go away. I gotta talk to someone. And don't touch anything, neither!" she called as Kitty turned away, miffed, and walked through the nearest wall.

Kitty Pryde stopped dead in her tracks and stared around her. She swallowed, hard, against the sudden lump in her throat, as she looked at the dusty, dirty room, semi packed up and put away. The smell of cigarettes still hung in the air. It was the smell that did it, more than anything else. She blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. It reminded her of something wonderful that she'd thrown away before she'd thought about what she was doing, and that she could never make amends for. Like a stone, she dropped quickly though the floor, escaping the room. She wandered around the building aimlessly for a few minutes before phasing back into the room where Meltdown was impatiently waiting, taping her heels on the desk she was sitting on.

"Well," Tabitha snarled, "I found him. You ready?"

"That quickly?" Kitty asked, surprised.

Tabitha's eyes radiated hatred that was almost palpable. "Mr. W had contacts. You wanna push or can we keep this to business? Only reason I'm helping you is 'cause I hate Sabretooth more'n I hate you, Pryde."

"Fine by me, Meltdown. So, where is he?"

Tabitha Smith grabbed her black leather uniform and a small duffel bag. "Got a car?" she managed to ask Kitty relatively civilly.

"Depends on where we're going," Kitty replied, not budging an inch.

For a long moment, the two just stared at one another. 

"Fine," Tabitha spat at last, ending a conflict of wills so that they could begin one of something much, much messier…

End of Part Three

So…how does Logan get Jubilee out of this one? And can he do it without having Elektra kill him in the process…and will Tabitha and Creed really have it out, or will she and Kitty kill each other too soon? Let me know what you think, oh most loyal (ha!) readers, and perhaps…to be continued?


	4. Part Four: Opening Presents...

Part Four

Part Four

Opening Presents

"I am going to kill you!" Elektra hissed in Wolverine's ear, clinging tightly to his waist as the motorcycle ripped down the asphalt roadway. She resisted the urge to scratch at the matted hair under the helmet Logan'd shoved onto her head earlier only because that would have meant freeing a hand from its death grip. 

"I'm gonna kill you, Pryde!" Tabitha screamed in Kitty's ear, clinging tightly to her waist as the motorcycle ripped down the asphalt roadway. She resisted the urge to scratch at the short hair under the helmet Kitty'd shoved onto her head earlier only because that would have meant freeing a hand from its death grip.

"I am going to cut your flesh from your metal bones and use your claws as my weapons! I will tear those claws from your hands and weld your adamantium into Sais and kill you with them!" Elektra spat as the bike just missed skimming a rock in front—and then rapidly behind—them. 

"Over my dead body, babe!" Wolverine growled back.

"I'm gonna knock you out with a time bomb, cut your hair off and strangle you with it! I'll feed you this stupid bike after I blast it into pieces and I'm gonna sue Xavier for this!"

"Relax and enjoy the ride!" Kitty smiled to herself, getting spiteful satisfaction from alarming the arrogant girl.

"I'm gonna feed you that dragon! In little, bloody pieces, after I blow it and this thing to Genosha!" Tabitha Smith screamed as the bike swerved around a tree suddenly in their way and returned to the small path.

"Over my dead body, Meltdown."

"That's the idea," she replied maliciously.

She shifted her weight to allow herself easier access to the Sai tucked into her right boot.

She squirmed sideways so that she could move her hand to charge a time bomb easier. 

* * *

****

"Thank god we aren't on the bike…" Elektra muttered to herself, forgetting for a moment that Wolverine's super-sensitive ears would pick up on it instantly.

He snorted quietly. "Were ya scared, darlin?"

"I am not your darling, and I was not scared. I just prefer to be able to fight adequately when facing an enemy," she harrumphed. 

"_Riiiight_…"

"So, where is he? And where is—"

"Hold on darlin, okay? We need some sorta plan…"

"Unless we know where they are, Logan _dear_," Elektra purred acidly, "we can't make a plan. And by the way," she went on, "have I ever told you how much I love the yellow and blue spandex look?"

Wolverine's lip curled in a snarl as he tugged the attached mask down over his face. Elektra laughed silently to herself in victory. Logan sniffed the air a few times.

"He's nearby, but he was in here recently. Keep coming." 

"I'm right here. If you'd move faster, short-guy, we'd be there already and have a plan." _Not like I should even bother making one with you—Xavier might have made you better, but you're still Logan. Plan? Ha!_ she thought to herself as she slid a few more feet through the cramped tunnel.

"Just cause yer an anorexic ninja don't mean everybody else's skin an' bones too, darlin."

"Logan, for the last time, I am not your 'darling' anything."

"Whatever you say, darlin."

Elektra replied with a very quiet, very rude mix of English, Greek, and Japanese. Wolverine laughed quietly.

* * *

Kitty looked behind her at Tabitha. "_Now_ will you let me phase us so we can get inside? You're acting like a child."

"And how old are _you_, miss ancient-one?"

"None of your business."

"Uh-huh, I shoulda figured."

Kitty glared at her. "Regardless of who's older, Tabitha, you need to grow up. And if you don't let me phase us inside, you can wait for us to come back out, because if you're going to act like this, I don't need your help, nor do I want it." She looked away and started walking a few inches above the ground, towards the building.

"Fine, Pryde!"

"Thought you'd see it like that."

"Shut-up."

Kitty smiled sweetly and dragged Tabitha through the wall behind her, ignoring the curses. If you weren't fully intangible, it was uncomfortable to walk through something solid. Kitty had learned that a while ago, and Meltdown was now figuring it out first hand.

* * *

Elektra carefully made sure that it didn't look like she was carefully watching Logan. She counted slowly to twenty before he stopped growling quietly and managed to pry the three claws out of the side of the small repair/ventilation tunnel. She hoped that hadn't made too loud a_ snikt_. Oh well; she'd been in worse situations plenty of times. Didn't mean she had to like it, though. She waited another ten before speaking.

"There's a light in the ceiling over there. It's almost right above her. I can get there faster. I'll assume you can keep Creed busy if he comes in the door."

"Yep," Wolverine growled, clenching his hands into fists. He didn't—couldn't—take his eyes off the bedraggled form of the battered, bloody girl manacled near the wall of the grimy, grungy room. 

"I wouldn't even bother to try and tell you to cut her loose while I dealt with him. He'd go after you first no matter how many limbs he lost in the process and you'd do the same to him," the ninja griped and rolled her eyes.

"Yep."

"Don't go off looking for him. If we have to carry out an unconscious…" Elektra paused for less than a split second, changing words so fast that only those who knew her best (and there were few enough of them) would have been able to tell that she had substituted for _brat_, figuring that wouldn't be the best thing to say "…girl, I'd rather not be trying to keep both me and her intact from a raving psycho's claws. That's what you're for." The question was, was it a quick enough recovery to throw off someone with a super sense of hearing?

He gave her a look. He'd noticed something. "Nice to be needed." Well, at least he was in a good enough humor to growl at her and trade minor jibes. That was probably as good as it was going to get, and certainly as good as she needed it to be. As long as Creed was the only person he took his anger and claws out on, and the only one whose intestines would pay the price of that anger, Logan's attitude didn't matter at all.

"_Riiiight_. Wait here, I'm going around. When I get there I'll signal you."

Wolverine smiled evilly. "Then I get to make a 'distraction' while you untie Jubes." He rubbed his fingers across his knuckles and a low growl started deep in his throat. Elektra's smile mirrored her companion's.

"Then we can gather up what _I_ need and get out of here. Deal."

"Deal," Logan slid to the side to let Elektra climb up and out of the ventilation shaft to squirm through the thin area above the cheap ceiling panels. She pulled one of her Sais out and flipped it around. Then crawled forward, holding the weapon loosely. 

* * *

Kitty slipped back through the wall. "I found Jubilee," she hissed quietly to Tabitha.

"Great. Where's the g'damned bas—"

"Don't know. I didn't look. Listen, can you control your temper enough _this_ time so that nothing gets screwed up?"

Tabitha Smith was silent for a moment, with a look of pure murder in her eyes as she looked at Kitty Pryde before she managed to spit the word out: "_yes_." She practically growled her reply, "I'll be _fine_."

"Good. I have an idea of how it will work—and please just listen. I've seen the room and you haven't, and I've got more experience anyway, especially dealing with Creed and people like him and situations like this. Okay?"

"I'll _listen_," Meltdown replied, concentrating on not discharging any plasma.

"Great." Kitty resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'll walk us in there, and leave you in the air-vent above the door. Then I'll air walk over, untie Jubilee, come back and grab you, and we'll all float out of here. If he comes in while I'm freeing her, you have to distract him with your time bombs. But warn me so that I can phase Jubes and me so _we_ don't get killed. Alright?"

"Fine. Works great," Tabitha muttered.

Kitty looked at her long and hard. "If he comes in, _distract_ him, don't try to mix it up with him, and defiantly don't try to kill him. I don't care _how_ much better you are now. He's fought more people with more power at once than the two of us. And if you make him really made, he'll track _you_ back to your hideout instead of me and Jubilee to Westchester or Massachusetts; wherever we end up getting to."

"Al_right_ Pro_fess_or," Tabitha growled. But there was something about the way she said it Kitty didn't like, and it wasn't the insulting tone…

"Right. Let's get going, then."

* * *

Jubilee looked up as the door grated open and tried not to shudder. She'd done her best to be brave, she really had, because she knew that he preferred fear. But it had been so long, and she was no closer to getting out than she had been when she got in here—however long ago that had been. She had no way of knowing what time it was, or the difference between day and night. She slept when she could and worried when she couldn't. The fear was grating her down, wearing her out. Nothing sapped your strength like terror after the initial adrenaline rush had worn off. She'd exploded a few times at her captor and the restraints she was in, but all that had earned her were blistered, burning hands and slashes across her face and gut. 

Sabretooth entered the room and took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of fear and blood mixed with the girl's scent. He smiled a sharp, toothy grin and was rewarded by seeing her cringe. She frowned at herself for doing it, then, and spat at him. The glob of wet spittle clung to the matted fur on his cheek. For an instant, he just stared at her, a low growl beginning to build in his throat. Then he roared and dragged one clawed paw back and slashed in, drawing five bleeding lines across her stomach. Jubilee bit her cheek and managed not to cry out, though her eyes watered and smarted. 

"That's it, girl!" the psychopath who had once been called Victor Creed roared angrily, grabbing her face roughly between his clawed fingers. He lightly pressed with one sharp tip and a drop of blood welled out. His lips curled into a twisted, sadistic grin as he slowly dragged the claw down the side of her face.

"That's enough, Creed." A voice came from the dark corners of the room.

"Well, well, well," Creed sneered. "The birthday boy finally decided to show up and save his dame. C'mon, kid, we'll watch you die in front of yer girl."

"Let's dance, dirtbag." From the darkness came the metallic _snikt_ of adamantium claws unsheathing…

End of Part Four


	5. Part Five: Cutting the Cake

Part Five

Part Five

Cutting the Cake

Elektra's well-honed senses alerted her to the presence coming closer. And if she could sense it, then Logan had already noticed. She squirmed her way between the pipes and beams as fast as she could while still remaining totally silent. She wasn't in place yet, wasn't close enough, and here came trouble, and she knew, just _knew_ that Logan wouldn't restrain himself, and the plan was about to—

The door opened. _Shimata! Jigoku! Shimasu,_ cursed Elektra mentally, employing language skills she hadn't bothered to practice for ages. 

* * *

Both girls were silent as the ghosts they entered like. Tabitha's patience was close to a meltdown—_is that where she got her name, instead of her power?,_ an idle part of Kitty's brain wondered—and both were as alert as they were probably going to get. 

They both knew the plan; it was quite simple. In, out, and home—that was it. Quick, to the point, and hard to make a mistake without interference from the villain. They were both experienced fighters, both accustomed to working alone and with others. One was a living plasma blast and the other as solid as air. Personalities aside, they should make a perfect team—one with firepower, the other to make a fast exit or entrance, and keep them both from harm. 

However, there was a problem that neither woman had thought of. That experience, being able to work well with others? They might be _too_ experienced. And they _weren't _used to working with each other. Instead of the instinctive rapport they shared with their teammates, instead of knowing the other's capabilities and movements to a T, instead of being able to intuitively know where the other would be and what they would do and what to count on them for…

Instead of being able to communicate in a split second with nothing but their eyes…

They might as well be perfect strangers for all the rapport they shared… 

They didn't like each other, and they probably wouldn't listen to each other. Any suggestions would be ignored, and commands? Ha. They hated the bad guy just a little more than they hated each other… 

Oh yeah—and they didn't trust one another an inch… 

And all that was just _begging_ for _worse_ than trouble…

* * *

The door opened, and a large, hulking figure entered menacingly on his cat's-paw feet.

All four froze like statues in a garden. They didn't dare to move a muscle. With his hyper-senses, only the preoccupation with his victim—and their experience at hiding where they weren't supposed to be—kept him from noticing them right away. For a few seconds, none of them breathed, they were so still. Tension and adrenaline trickled equally fast through their well-trained muscles and veins…

Then Sabretooth drew his claw down Jubilee's cheek.

And that's when, to quote quite accurately, all Hell broke loose… 

* * *

"Let's dance, dirtbag." 

Jubilee looked up, shock in her eyes. That shock gave way, nearly instantly, to relief.

"Wolvie!" she screamed— All the fear, the pain, and then the relief—Logan was here, she was okay, he couldn't hurt her anymore—she abruptly recoiled from the claw that snapped back, almost randomly, to slash across her already bleeding cheek. She couldn't help it—it was just too much, the sudden relief from horror, and then he still hurt her anyway, when she should have been okay—she cried out in pain. Her shriek mixed with two roars from opposite ends of the room—neither from Creed. 

Logan leapt, claws out, from the darkness towards Sabretooth, just as the wall at the other end of the room exploded inward blindingly, and a blond girl—was that Meltdown?—charged in from the other direction, light flashing around her hands. 

Creed stepped to avoid Logan's strike, and Jubilee watched in horror as, seemingly in slow motion, Wolvie pulled his claws in—why would he do that—and slammed hard into the plasma-discharging Tabitha Smith—

* * *

As the door opened, Shadowcat glanced quickly towards her right, to the girl standing in the shadowy, tight space between walls. She wasn't sure how Tabitha would react. The girl had nursed a hatred of Victor Creed, along with her bruised ego and spirit courtesy that creature, for a long time. When you suddenly ended up in a situation like this, it could be up in the air about how you would react. 

Kitty wanted to make sure that Tabitha didn't blow up the way her name specified. She didn't know the girl well at all, and liked her less, but she did know that the X-Forcer code-named Meltdown had dealt with a crappy life and low self-esteem for a long time, that Creed had used for his own ends. Her stupidity in that case had nearly gotten someone else killed—and now a kid younger than either of them was being—

Kitty cursed silently in her head, repeating words she had learned for Logan and Pete Wisdom, at both Meltdown and Sabretooth. She wasn't sure which one she was cussing at, and it really didn't matter right then.

Tabitha was gone.

_Bloody damn…_

* * *

Tabitha Smith seethed with anger, hatred, and shame. This monster—she had trusted that monster, that looser, that…_beast_. It had all been her fault—she'd let him do it to her. What had Mr. W said once—nobody makes you feel like a git unless you let 'em? Something like that. He'd been drunk, and she had a problem with how thick his accent got then, but the point still came across. She'd _let_ Sabretooth do that to her, and then she'd reacted on the spur of the moment, and blown him free without thinking—and now, because of that, he was gonna rip this girl, who was probably a lot like she had been back then, to shreds.

And she just knew that Pryde wasn't going to do anything worth saying. She'd probably tell her to wait, to let him beat the girl—Jubilee—up, just because Pryde was a stupid coward, the _cow_, and Meltdown wasn't about to sit there and watch, or her name wasn't Tabitha Smith.

And she _could_ do something about it, or she wasn't Meltdown of X-Force—and she would, too—she'd show that stupid cow, and she'd show Creed, too—all of them, she'd prove she'd risen above her roots, prove that she was better than trailer trash, that she was really a hero—a part of X-Force, one of the best, the bravest. She'd show them she deserved to be one of them—she'd show Pryde who was better, the stuck-up snob, and she'd show Creed that _nobody_ did something like that and got away with it—that's why Mr. W took over X-Force to begin with, to stop people like that—well, I'll show Domino, too, then, she never would have thought—she'd be impressed with me right now, and so would Sam, I know it—

And I _do_ deserve that, I do, and now I have to prove it, so I will—!

* * *

Elektra knew a sucker move when she saw one. She didn't know who the brat was, but obviously, she'd been waiting for them. How, and why, Creed had gotten a partner wasn't her concern. The fact that it was now two-on-one, and that one of those two was Sabretooth and that the other was an unknown, but obviously super-powered jerk, meant that things were going to get ugly for Logan. Especially with his emotions and commitment divided. Those two might be able to dice him up in seconds, and while she knew that she could dispatch any upstart brat, and at least put Creed down for some time while he healed himself, she didn't particularly want to have to do that. 

Besides, she hated being suckered. 

__

Shimatta-me, bake-me, she silently cursed—Logan, Creed, the blond-haired brat, it didn't matter which. Elektra was simply unhappy. And when she was unhappy, people usually got dead. As the big, hairy one, and the interfering blonde would soon learn. Without her usual blood-curdling ninja scream, Elektra silently leapt towards her two victims, like the assassin she was…

* * *

Kitty Pryde didn't blink, or she would have missed it, things happened so quickly. Jubilee screamed, Logan leapt at Creed, Tabitha exploded out of the wall, and Elektra dropped through the ceiling, kicking the panel above the light out of the way silently. Then things dissolved into blurs—Logan pulled in his claws, barely avoiding gutting Meltdown; Elektra's sai whistled through the air and glanced off Tabitha's shoulder, barely rolled out of the way in time; Sabretooth slashed, Elektra hopping nimbly over one paw, Logan putting up an arm to block the other, four deep slashes of red slowly closing…

Someone, she wasn't sure who, roared, and someone else screamed…

They were in _fukai shimasu_ now…

* * *

A long sword appeared in Elektra's hand from her back, and Sabretooth abruptly had a half-foot deep wound in his back. 

His hand snapped back and Elektra rolled, taking three red lines on her face in exchange for the spurting wound on the other's back, already beginning to close. 

Wolverine shoved Meltdown out of his way and she went down, hard, without either of them noticing the blood leaking from her shoulder. 

She cursed and almost got her head cut off when she tried to get up in Wolverine's strike—his claws went in, but Sabretooth twisted out of the way, leaving just a few scraps of bloody skin on his enemy's adamantium claws.

Shadowcat sprang, unnoticed in the commotion, out of the wall and darted across the room towards Jubilee, whose shouts just added to the melee…

Elektra's foot somehow slid in through the slashing paws of the former partners to connect with Meltdown's jaw on the way in, and Sabretooth's shoulder on the way out.

Wolverine reached a hand down and pressed Meltdown to the floor, out of the way.

Wolverine and Sabretooth's hands met, clenched, squeezed…and with a bone-cracking snap, the latter's shattered within the short X-Man's adamantium grip. 

While Logan was occupied in crushing the hand of the man he hated more than any other, that same man was ignoring the pain in his extremity, and reaching in towards the momentarily unprotected gut of his arch enemy.

Elektra shouted a warning to her ally, which went unheard, and, snatching a sai with her free left hand, somersaulted over the combatants. She landed, weapons down, in their midst. The sword went completely through Victor Creed's arm, which he promptly ripped away—both from the weapon and Logan's stomach. A large portion of his arm remained on the razor sharp weapon. The sai went into the back of Tabitha Smith and remained there. 

Less than a split second after she began her descent, Elektra had gracefully slipped, unscathed, between the others to the floor, leaving one weapon behind. The other dripped blood as she tucked it in close and rolled outward. 

She leapt to her feet just as Creed got his legs under Logan and flung him across the room, where he thudded sickeningly to the floor. Elektra and Sabretooth, for the moment, faced each other alone.

His claws dripped, the fluid mixing with his already matted and bloodstained hair. He smiled feraly, and the Greek ninja could see a piece of flesh—human, actually mutant—hung in his bloody teeth. He growled, low and deep, his eyes the same color as the fluid staining him…

Her sword pooled blood on the floor. The red vanished on her crimson outfit, the colors so close as to be undistinguishable. Where it oozed down her pale leg, it looked no more out of place than the boots she wore. Then again, to the color-blind Sabretooth, it made no difference if it was red or black—besides, both colors meant death to the two killers facing each other darkly. Elektra tossed her head, flicking a piece of blood-stained raven hair over her shoulder, and smiled chillingly…

* * *

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Jubilee shrieked as Kitty struggled, in vain, with the contraption she had nearly been entombed in. With a muttered word she'd gotten in the habit of hearing in England, the meaning of which she really _hadn't_ wanted to know after all, Shadowcat took Jubilee by her shoulders and phased her. She could feel how thin the girl was through her battered jacket. She helped her through the shackles and caught her as she collapsed.

"Jubilation! Are you okay—" _God, don't let her be dead! We got here, we've made it this far, it isn't fair—_

Jubilee threw-up and sat, weakly coughing, against Kitty's leg. 

"It's okay, Jubes, you're okay." Kitty stroked the girl's short dark hair, pushing her anger at the blood and slashes that were all over the girl's body aside for now. "It's all over now. It's _all _over…" Jubilee sobbed, all the pent-up emotions of the past days pouring out of her: the pain, the fear, the anger, the _relief_…

* * *

Wolverine had picked himself up from the broken flooring, and charged back in, without sparing a glance towards Jubilee. He could smell Kitty, and knew what she'd do—get the kid out and phase both of them. Either one of them would be more trouble than help in this fight—which wasn't very fair to the kids, but it was true, even if that would have been Logan's own fault, not either one of theirs. Claws out and already bloodied, he ignored Tabitha's body as he hopped over it. He'd scream at Elektra later, feel anger later. Right now, he had a job to do.

And he was the best there was at what he did.

Even though what he did wasn't very nice. 

That was okay. Neither were the people he did it to.

* * *

Elektra leaped as fast as she could—not good enough, she knew, as she felt fire race down her calf. Ignoring the pain and blood, she threw her knife between her spread legs, spun, and landed. She gasped and barely managed to keep to her feet as the injured leg threatened to give way beneath her. The satisfaction, however, of seeing Creed futilely trying to drag her dagger out of his throat helped more than a little. She ignored the blood that sprayed wildly as he writhed on the rapidly reddening floor. 

Elektra smiled viciously as three drops of blood hit her cheek. She knew they would be the last to spray from _that_ creature…Her expression turned rapidly to horror. _Five seconds—it's supposed to be five seconds…_ She realized that Creed would hang on longer, with his healing factor. _That's it, that's all the problem is—your instincts just don't realize this is different, that Creed is different…_

But she was uneasy. The last time she had ignored her instincts…

That was all that saved her. The claws that would have removed her neck from her body instead slashed deeply across the top of her head and bit into her ankles as she flipped backwards. She tripped on her way down, though, over the body of Sabretooth's partner, whom she'd killed no more than a minute ago. Her sword went clattering from her hand to skitter out of reach across the floor. She would have caught her balance, injured legs or no, if it weren't for the pool of blood from that victim. As she fell, she had time to think what she knew would be her last conscious thought.

_How fitting, killed by my own victim…what an ironic way for someone with so many deaths on her hands to die…_

She saw, from the corner of her eye, a flash of a clawed hand coming in to finish it all…

End of Part Five


	6. Part Six: Happy Death-Day to You...

Part Six

Part Six

Happy Death-Day To You…

__

SNIKT! Less than a centimeter from Elektra's nose, three gleaming metal claws shot out, stopping those belonging to Sabretooth a nanosecond before she was vivisected. For a moment, both men strained, one pushing down, the other up. Creed's blood dripped onto Elektra's face, and her reactions kicked back in. She rolled, careful not to touch the razor sharp adamantium claws, though she left a few strands of long, blood-drenched black hair behind.

Elektra flipped to her feet and snatched two Sais out of her boots just in time to see Creed's clawed hand dive into Logan's stomach, and the other's adamantium slit Sabretooth's throat. Both men staggered a step backwards, Logan holding in his guts, and Creed clutching his throat. Elektra threw herself forward, leaping and spinning over Sabretooth's head, slicing his skull open as she went. She landed on the other side of the large mutant and spun, prepared for the bloody floor, and keeping her balance this time. The speed at which they healed caught her off guard, however, for she had no more turned to face them than she had to jump backwards to keep her own guts intact. The two men disappeared in a mass of roiling claws and hair, blood and flesh gushing from the fray. Elektra cursed, hovering on the outskirts of the brawl, Sais dripping red.

Logan rolled sideways to escape a particularly nasty slash of Sabretooth's and bumped smack into Meltdown's body. His blood chilled. Elektra—he knew he couldn't trust her, but he hadn't expected her to kill Tabitha like that. And what for? The momentary lapse in attention was all that Victor Creed needed to dig his claws through Logan's stomach and tear up beneath the adamantium-laced rib cage to his heart. 

Wolverine spat blood weakly, and Creed laughed; a high, hysterical, insane sound, that chilled the veins of whoever heard it. Before he could finish his enemy off, though, a long metal Sai _thunked_ into the side of his skull and he howled with pain, standing blindly. He slashed wildly, one of his blows knocking the Greek Ninja to the side of the room. He ripped the weapon from his skull and panted, letting his own healing factor save his life. Logan was starting to move again, so Creed lifted the Ninja dagger high, preparing to plunge it into his adversary's brain through the non-metal eyelid…

* * *

Kitty went on comforting Jubilee, waiting for the hysterics to cease, patiently, soothingly, holding the girl to her tightly as she cried. "We'll get you out of here, don't you worry—"

Suddenly Jubilee stiffened in her arms. "Wolvie!" she shrieked. 

Kitty spun around to see the bloody fight going on behind the two ghost-like figures—and the incapacitated Logan about to be finished. Elektra was barely moving across the room, and Tabitha lay in a puddle of her own blood. But before Shadowcat could do more than scramble to her feet, Jubilee had rocked to her knees and let loose. 

The rainbow of fireworks pouring from the girl's bloodied hands was enough to dazzle the eyes of everyone in the room. Shaped plasmoid firecrackers and explosives cascaded like the finale of every Fourth of July show ever made all in one large, continuous explosion of light and energy. Sabretooth's scream couldn't even be heard over the noise the pyrotechnics generated. 

Elektra looked up and pulled a long blade from her back like liquid lightning. She snapped the hilt off and flung the blade across the room, ignoring the deep cut it left on her hands, where it hit the wall and quivered, stuck deeply into it.

Sabretooth hit the wall in the same spot, the long metal blade impaling him, going straight through his chest and out the other side. Shadowcat ran on air across the room as Jubilee ran out of energy and the fireworks cut off. Straining, she pushed against the sword sticking out of Creed's chest. It wouldn't budge. Then two blood-covered hands joined hers on the blade, and she and Logan bent it sideways, thrusting it back through Sabretooth's chest. He stirred, and a fast kick knocked both of them sprawling. He strained against the blade weakly. Before Wolverine could say _snikt_, a glittering Sai flashed across the room and entered Victor's chest, holding the bent sword there, digging it in deeply. Creed roared weakly, but two more Sais traveled across the dark room to fasten first one arm to the wall, then the other. Elektra's eyes rolled upwards and the rest of her rolled down, her last blurry sight of the thing that was once Victor Creed pinned to the wall like an insect…

End of Part Six

Who survives? Who doesn't? Why was Elektra here—and will we even find out? 


	7. Part Seven: It's Not the Years...

Part Seven 

Part Seven

It's Not the Years…

Logan smiled, not even bothering to hold his side as he helped Kitty to her feet and walked over to the writhing body of his anything-but-friend. 

"'Happy birthday,' huh, bub? Couldn't think of a better present. Thanks," Logan sneered as three long metal claws swiped through the hair-covered neck, bisecting Sabretooth. The head rolled, spewing blood, mouth moving as if trying to speak, but unable—it had no voice box and no lungs to force air through it anyway. Logan smiled; more like baring his teeth, and spat blood mixed with saliva on the floor by the head.

"Wolvie!" Jubilee almost tackled him, wrapping her arms around his neck, half-choking him. 

"Hey, kid. How are ya?"

"Ohmygod, Iwassoscared, youwouldn'tbelieveit, ohmygod—I made it. Jeez, I'm fine, whaddaya think, I'm some kinda baby?" Jubilee chided him. 

Sparing Logan from coming up with any more of an answer than "naw, kid," Elektra moaned and pushed herself to her feet, clinging to wall to keep from tipping over.

"I think…there's a little too much of my blood…on the floor," she gasped, pushing sweat- and blood-soaked hair from her eyes. 

"Sure put yer fair share there, darlin—an' not all of it yours. What'd ya think you were doin?"

An eyebrow arched coolly. "With what, Logan?"

"Killin Meltdown, ya cold-blooded _bake-me_!" Wolverine growled.

"Meltdown?" The eyebrow almost vanished into the bloodied hairline. Her dark eyes flicked to the body of Sabretooth's partner on the floor. _Uh-oh_…_I think I might have made a small mistake…_ "You knew her? She…wasn't his partner…was she," it wasn't a question.

"Nope," Logan replied coldly. What would have happened next none of them knew, though they all had a bad feeling about it. 

But a quiet groan came from the blonde girl on the floor. Elektra silently breathed a sigh of relief, not caring if Logan saw it or not. That was one less innocent life on her hands. She looked at the body. Elektra was grateful the girl wasn't dead, yeah, but she was embarrassed, too. Oh, sure, she'd been rushed, and concentrating more on Creed than the brat, and she still put her down for the count, but _still_, that should have been a kill! …_All's well that ends well, I guess_, she told herself, unconvinced.

"Well. I'm going to—_uhn_—go get the information I need. You can deal with them, Logan. And thanks for your help," she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Go to hell, Elektra," he grumbled good-naturedly. "And kid, you didn't hear anything either one of us said, got it?"

Elektra responded to Logan's "sudden attack of fatherliness" with Japanese. Kitty snorted and tried to swallow her laughter. Jubilee gave Logan an insulted/confused look. "I'm not a kid. And what'd she say, anyway?"

"You don't want to know, sweetie," Elektra picked up two of her blood-soaked Sais and sauntered (as much as she could on her leg) out of the room, ignoring her spinning head and battered body. Logan flicked her off and disentangled himself from Jubilee.

"Okay, Jubes, I gotta get Tabitha outta here, so Kitty'll help you. Okay, pun'kin?"

"Gotcha, Wolvie. Gimmee your hand, Jubes, you look pretty beat up."

"You're telling me!"

* * *

Elektra slipped silently into a small, dark, smelly room with a phone. She didn't want to know what the gunk that coated it was. _Thank god for my gloves_…She definitely did not want to _touch_ it. It was probably something that came out of Creed…_good _god_, Elektra! You have to _use_ that thing, you dork, don't _even_ start!_ She shuddered, and gingerly picked the phone up. She looked for the dirties numbers, and went in order of piled gunk on them. The phone rang as she held it near her ear, not touching it…_ring_…_ring_…_ri—click!_

"Victor," came a voice over the other end. "Have you eliminated Elektra yet?"

"Mmm," she said, "not quite, dear."

Dead silence. Elektra smiled as she watched the small box she held in her hands. One of the LEDs went on. 

"Don't worry, though," she reassured the voice, "he tried his best. And you surely won't have to give him whatever reward he was promised. I took care of that for you."

"You…but…alone?" the voice sputtered, unable to restrain its curiosity. Another LED went on. 

"What, you think I called the police on him? Honestly, it's not as if I have a private army I keep on hand to deal with things like this. Of course I did." The third one lit up…_almost there_, she mentally crossed her fingers. 

"You…you…impossible…nobody…not even that Wolverine…could kill…"

Elektra laughed once, harshly. As long as she could keep insulting this idiot gently, they'd keep talking. "Him? You have to be kidding me. Honestly, that old timer? They're both too ancient to keep up with Elektra: Assassin." She hung up the phone before the voice could say anything else and glanced at the small box. She had it. Alone in the dark, smelly, dank room, Elektra smiled evilly, a pure grin of death, as the blood dripped down onto the floor.

* * *

Logan had managed to get the Sai out and bandage Tabitha's wound with the black leather cape she wore—that had probably thrown Elektra's aim off the necessary bit in the melee, he figured. _So she'll need a new cape—too flamin' bad._ Not his problem. She wasn't even supposed to be here. The fact that Kitty hadn't either didn't so much slip his mind as end up under a different heading. Kitty was…Kitty, and they'd fought together before. _Good thing Elektra didn't hurt Pryde_, Logan's mind told him. Otherwise, she'd still be in there, right next to Vic. 

He slung the unconscious X-Forcer in front of him on the motorcycle before turning to make sure the kids were okay. Jubilee would need to spend some time in medical care, but as long as she got that, none of the injuries should be life threatening, as long as she hadn't lost too much blood. She got on behind Kitty after a brief argument over who got to drive the bike. They just had to get Smith to a hospital pronto—she'd survive if they got there soon enough.

"You two okay there, pun'kin?"

Kitty rolled her eyes and smiled. "Wolvie, relax and ride, okay? C'mon, you finally got Sabretooth for good—you should be happy."

Wolverine smiled feraly. Oh, yeah. That was one way to put it. 

* * *

The house was dark and still. She saw the car in the driveway. _So, he thinks he's safe, does he? Thinks he's got away in time? That just by going somewhere else, I can't track him? Thinks his car's nondescript enough that he lost me with those silly maneuvers? Ha._ She smiled coldly in the darkness. 

There was a person in the lounge, surrounded by a very sophisticated security system, and armed guards patrolled the property. They had Uzis and something bigger over their shoulders; probably some sort of blade in a belt or boot, she figured. _Thinks that'll protect him? Sure. Right. In his _dreams_…_

Silent as the shadows she moved in, she hopped the fence and slid up the wall, leaving the three Dobermans dead below before any of them had the chance to bark…

The first guard dropped before she was even in the house; he didn't even have time to gasp before she caught the body and let it down to the floor gently, silently…

* * *

Late, two nights later, Wolverine sat alone in the kitchen of the X-Mansion. Nobody knew that he had returned to get a few things—like a credit card for hospital bills—and he'd decided to grab a bite to eat before returning. Kitty was at the hospital with Jubes and Meltdown still; Jubilee was about to be discharged and handed back over to Frost, not too the worse for wear. Meltdown looked like she was going to pull through. Logan still had to drop a message for Frost and try to get in touch with the X-Force-kids, though that was doubtful. He scanned the headline on the front page of the newspaper on the counter, then smiled. 

The news was hopping with the mystery murder of a highly placed government official and his entire security force—including three Dobermans, still in their kennel area. None of the guards had drawn a weapon, and those that didn't die with surprise on their faces died without knowing they were dead, just like the dogs. The only one with a different reaction was the official himself. He was sitting in his lounge where he'd apparently been getting very drunk. 

He had fear on his face. And someone with lipstick had finished his drink for him.

The man called Wolverine smiled as he ate another bit of the not-quite-stale cake in front of him. _Good one, darlin',_ he thought, _guess you got what you were after…_

Well, I hope you all enjoyed it. Sorry Meltdown-fans, but I don't really like Tabitha all that much, though I tried to be fair and write her the way she would probably act. Hope you liked my takes on the characters, and the way everything finally panned out. Drop me a review—pretty please with birthday cake on top? It isn't _really_ stale, I swear!


End file.
